One Week
by sewilikebaking
Summary: A week in the lives of our favorite characters... as they deal with what no family should have to.


**_so, this randomly came to me while working on some other stories... feel free to read, and _****_please_****_, i love hearing from you! review! _**

_To _Auxio Ferlan: _You left an anonymous review, so I have no way of replying. On the chance that you might come back, I'm doing it here. I just want you to know that I did read it, every word. And I wanted to thank you. Thinking of you, and rooting for you to make it through. -Libby, also 16_

* * *

><p>It's Monday, and he gives me a kiss on the cheek before he leaves for school.<p>

It's Tuesday, and I drop the phone, not bothering to hang up. It hits the ground, but I'm already out the door.

It's Wednesday, and it's 'I'm sorry's and 'we did all we could's. I fall into Lawrence's arms, and he holds me, but I don't feel it.

It's Thursday, and I'm still not feeling. Didn't I used to have a heart? I'm not sure I feel it beating anymore.

It's Friday, and I make his favorite for dinner, but he doesn't show up. That's not like him.

It's Saturday, and I have to look at his beautiful face. His eyes are closed, but it _is_ Saturday, I'll let him sleep in.

It's Sunday, and now everything hurts. I thought my heart was gone? How can it hurt so much? I can't see for all my tears.

It's Monday, and I need my son.

* * *

><p>It's Monday, and the boys wave to me from the bus.<p>

It's Tuesday, and I tell Linda everything will be fine. Our boy is strong.

It's Wednesday, and I was wrong. I catch Linda as she falls, but who's going to catch me?

It's Thursday, and I close the shop for now. It's just full of things would think interesting.

It's Friday, and I'm sorry that I didn't have as much time with him as everyone else did. I know him pretty well, but not as well as Ferb does.

It's Saturday, and he's smiling. What a_ him_ thing to do, smile at his funeral. The tears almost tickle as they slowly blaze their path.

It's Sunday, and she needs me. No, she needs _him_, but I'll have to do.

It's Monday, and I need my boy.

* * *

><p>It's Monday, and I almost bust my brothers. Again. But they escape somehow. Again.<p>

It's Tuesday, and that driver does too.

It's Wednesday, and life just left our family, no warning, just gone. How can we get it back?

It's Thursday, and Ferb isn't building. I ask were his tools are, he says he lost them.

It's Friday, and I regret. Why did I spend so much time trying to bust him? He's done so much for me. What have I ever done for him?

It's Saturday, and Jeremy's arm is around me as Stacy holds my hand. I can't say goodbye. Did I really even know him in the first place?

It's Sunday, and the house is wrong. I sit in the panic room, wondering where my life went.

It's Monday, and I need my brother.

* * *

><p>It's Monday, and I couldn't answer the question because I was daydreaming about him again.<p>

It's Tuesday, and he's not at school today. I wonder why, but I guess I'll find out when I stop by their house later.

It's Wednesday, and before I can make sense of the words, he's gone.

It's Thursday, and I walk through the back gate for the third time, but he's still not there. I ask Ferb why, but he just sits and stares.

It's Friday, and my bow won't stand up straight. I just throw it down, and the tears burn.

It's Saturday, and I bring the prettiest and reddest rose I can find. I wish it was good enough. The tears don't burn this time, but they still fall.

It's Sunday, and I've earned my heartbreak patch. I don't want it.

It's Monday, and I need my first love.

* * *

><p>It's Monday, and I spend all day with him, like everyday. He made the day spectacular.<p>

It's Tuesday, and I'm confused. Where is he? What do you mean there was an accident? _Where is he?_

It's Wednesday, and my knees hit the floor of a great white prison. If white reflects all colors, how could it steal the most vibrant one I've ever known?

It's Thursday, and I watch my toolbox as it sinks to the bottom. I won't need it anymore.

It's Friday, I stuff his blankets with pillows so I can pretend he's there. It doesn't work, and I still don't sleep.

It's Saturday, and they managed to fit the largest collection of life ever created in a small wooden box. I offer Isabella my handkerchief, but this time she takes my shoulder.

It's Sunday, and I'm in his bed this time. If I close my eyes, it smells like he's next to me.

It's Monday, and I need my best friend.

* * *

><p>It's Monday, and it's another gift. It takes all day to unwrap, but it's worth it.<p>

It's Tuesday, and the gift wasn't so great this time. I'm scared, and it hurts, and then there's nothing for a little while.

It's Wednesday, and I want to say goodbye, but they're too late.

It's Thursday, and I see them. They are confused; they don't want to believe it. But I know the pain is coming.

It's Friday, and I'm so sorry. I'm the reason they're hurting. I wish more than anything that I could fix them, but I don't think I can this time.

It's Saturday, and they're looking at me, or, who I used to be. I yell, 'I'm over here!' but they don't hear me. I can only watch as they pretend to let go. But I know they won't for a very long time.

It's Sunday, and I go to my mom. I dry her tears and I hug her tight. Maybe if I squeeze tight enough, she won't hurt so much.

It's Sunday, and I turn to my dad. I hug him too, and I whisper in his ear how he's always been my father. No 'step' about it.

It's Sunday, and I find Isabella. I fix her bow for her, and give her a kiss on the cheek. The crying has stopped for now, but I see a lone tear that got left behind. With my thumb, I carefully lift it away. I wish I could lift the pain away too.

It's Sunday, and when I enter Candace's room, she's already asleep. Her face looks troubled, but not the way it looked when she tried to bust us. A different kind I can't describe. Gently, I smooth her hair and lay my hand on her cheek. I tell her how much I admire her, and everything else she deserves to hear.

It's Sunday, and I save Ferb for last. Though it's in a box beneath the ground, I still feel my heart break when I see what I've done to him. I climb onto my bed and take him in my arms. I hold him tight, and he's crying harder than I ever thought possible.

It's Sunday, and tomorrow, they won't remember I was there. But tonight, for this moment, I hope they know I am.

It's Monday, and I love them all. So much.


End file.
